


Let me in

by FruitBird (Fruitbird15), Fruitbird15



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Gen, Ghosts, Hauntings, Horror, Pre-Canon, Time Skips, the blight is nasty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruitbird15/pseuds/FruitBird, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruitbird15/pseuds/Fruitbird15
Summary: "Let me in..."It's something the Clay siblings all know, even if it's never spoken aloud.Do. Not. Let Caroline in.(The Forest is not the only thing the blight stole from the Clay's)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Warning again, this fic deals with the death of a child at the beginning, and is a headcanon for Caduceus' past. I wanted to explore just how dangerous the blight is.)

They never did find out if it was the fruit or the fall that killed her.

There was an apple tree just inside the second fence, when Caduceus was small. An ancient, gnarled thing that grew the _best_ apples, crunchy and firm and sweet. But getting them was a pain. The other animals knew it too, and him and his siblings had to race for any windfalls before they were carried off by possums or birds, or became full of hungry wasps.

Except Caroline. To Caduceus' tiny, seven year old mind she was a marvel, climbing the ancient tree with the skill and precision of a mountain goat. None of the other siblings could touch her, arguing up at her as she swung her legs calmly and munched on a fresh apple. She was thirteen and just the best in his eyes, especially because she was always happy to bring him apples if he would only ask.

"Here, Deucy. You're the least annoying of the others." 

And she'd smile, tunic full of ripe apples and long grey hair loose and tangled, a wild little thing who seemed more at home in the trees than on the ground. 

Caduceus loved her, the same way he loved all his siblings, as fierce and bold as only a small child could. She'd promised to teach him to climb, when he was bigger.

....

He was the one who found her, splayed out on the ground. He'd seen death before. He'd watched Grandpa Colin pass away, gently resting the immense weight on his years down for a moment that lasted an eternity. It had been solemn and sad, but somehow peaceful, and little Caduceus had begun to take his first steps to understanding death that day.

But this was needless death, a moment of frozen time as he stared at her, his stomach feeling small and cold. Carolines neck was at a funny angle, her eyes wide and scared and blank. Her grey hair fell in a fan around her.

On the ground, an apple. 

Some tiny instinct, a flash of the magic that would grow stronger one day, made him pick up a stick and poke it, turning it over. There was a bite missing.

The flesh inside was a sickly purple.

His throat felt tight. His skin was cold and prickly as he felt the rot seeping slowly into the earth. Around Carolines mouth, the skin was turning purple. Not like the dead bodies Papa buried. He knew in his heart this was unnatural. This was blight.

His sister was dead.

The frozen tears came in force as he turned and ran for his mother.

He was seven, and his world had ended. Grief feels so much bigger for small bodies.

...

There was a plot of land for all the Clays. Everyone had their own little patch they'd be buried. Caduceus knew where his was, he'd been allowed to pick it out. It had bluebells on it. But Caroline would never get to be buried there. His parents had wept, but they hadn't argued. They both knew why, and for all Caduceus seemed lost in his own little world, he was very good at listening.

The blight was in her. To bring that inside the Grove would doom it. 

They dug a grave hurriedly beneath the apple tree, already dying. She'd been blessed, in the hope it would protect her, where the Grove could not.

Then the third fence was put up.

He'd wept for weeks at the thought of her, poor lonely Caroline, lost and alone. He wanted, so badly, for her to come back.

Later, he'd wish with the same fervor that she would stay dead.

...

The fence near the apple tree was always cold. It was unfriendly land, as Colton put it. Standing there sent a chill down the spine. Things went missing, hair tangled, little hooves tripped easily. The Clay children avoided it like the plague.

He was eleven when he saw her again, practicing his meditation leaning against a gravestone. He'd been doing well, but a stone was pressing against his thigh and he shifted to adjust, cracking an eye open. Across from him, on the other side of the Grove, he saw her pale form standing still, gazing at him through the bars. It was the way the world seemed unchanged that was most disconcerting, he thought, feeling strangely frozen. Birds sang. The sun was warm. A bee wandered up his arm.

And a dead thing stared across at him. He could feel the baleful malignancy of her stare. The sheer ordinariness made his skin crawl. Surely spirits only came in the dead of night, in crackling thunderstorms? Not under a warm summer sun.

Slowly, he unfroze. He was a Clay, keeper of the land here. He had a duty to uphold. Never mind he was so scared he thought he was going to pee. Never mind something that shouldn't be was walking.

"Go away, Caroline. You shouldn't be here."

Her distant figure didn't shift, but he felt the anger in her focusing, more heated. There was a stench of wrongness, of corruption.

_"Let me in..."_

Then she was gone. For now.

Caduceus breathed out gently, the back of his robes chilly with sweat. He quietly decided not to tell his parents. He knew the loss of her still weighed on them, the choice they'd been forced into.

For a long time, he thought he was the only one of his siblings to see her. He soon found out he was wrong.

....

"Deucy!"

He cracked a bleary eye open at the soft wail. It was night, well past midnight if he was any judge, and his little sister was crying for him in their shared room. The young colt yawned and raised his head from his sleeping mat.

"What's the matter, Calliope?"

"She's back! The angry girl!" 

Calliope was shaking, still small and fluffy, stumbling after her older brothers with stars in her eyes. Beside him, he heard Colton inhale sharply. The two might have fought like cats in a sack during the daylight hours, but in the wee dark hours, their tiny little sisters eyes full of frightened tears, such arguments seemed childish. 

"I've got this, Colton. Look after Calliope."

"But-"

"It's my turn."

As Colton swept up Calliope and began whispering to her, soothing little lies about tree branches tapping on shutters and whispering winds, Caduceus slipped out of the house. He was good at this by now, knew where not to put his hooves to avoid creaks. He took no light.

It would only attract attention.

Guided by the light of the moons, he crept softly through the cold autumn night. Fear clung like bile to the back of his throat. Stark pale in the dark, Caroline stared at him through the fence, eyes mere shadowy pits in the stark moonlight. There were blotches creeping along her, stains Caduceus knew would be sickly purple.

"Go to sleep, Caroline."

" _Let me in._ "

"You know why we can't."

" _Please, Caduceus? It's so cold here. And the grove is so warm. Just let me in._ "

His fur stood on end, as it always did when he stared down his sister. The voice was always wrong, the way she stood like a puppet at attention. Like something else had her strings. He'd seen plenty of ghosts, watched his parents commune with the dead countless times. But they'd felt...natural, in a way Caroline didn't. They'd lingered because they were frightened or unsure, and he'd comfort them. They never felt scary. Just sad. Lost spirits needing a gentle hand. They smelled of ozone and cold weather.

Caroline smelled of rot.

"You're scaring Calliope."

" _I've never met her. Can I come in to see her? Real quick? I promise I won't take long. I have a present for her._

An apple gleamed in her hands, and Caduceus fought down a gag at the smell of blight riddled fruit.

"You aren't Caroline. You haven't been Caroline for a long time. Go back to bed and stay there."

He did...something. He wasn't sure how he did it yet. Maybe he'd figure it out later. But Caroline was gone as suddenly as she was there, the blighted apple falling to the ground with a sickening thump. Caduceus breathed out in air that felt somehow warmer and sweeter, and crept his way back to the house. 

Where his father stood in the doorway. He expected scolding. A lecture. But his fathers eyes swept over his face in that way Caduceus would learn eventually, reading him like a book, and his eyes went soft and sad. For the first time Caduceus wondered how much his father knew of what lurked between the second and third fences. 

"Go back to bed, son." he whispered.

"Yes, pa."

It was never brought up again. Calliope slept restfully that night.

...  
"Where's Clarabelle?"

There was general shrugging. The little toddler had a knack for wandering off despite keen supervision, usually found filthy, giggling and holding some small insect. Caduceus sighed and lay down the basket he'd been weaving.

"I'll go look for her."

He didn't rush. Clarabelle had only little legs, her steps still wobbly. She couldn't have gotten far.

A sudden cold wind hit him sharply, like a warning. His head spun like a weathercock to the unfriendly ground. Time slowed to a series of snapshots. Clarabelle, entranced, reaching out a hand. Caroline on the other side of the fence, purple stained hand outstretched.

The shining apple it carried.

His legs were moving before his brain fully registered. There was no screaming, no yelling. Nothing that could waste precious air as he bolted, thoughts crystal clear with panic.

Caduceus was fast, even on a bad day, snatching up the chubby firbolg fawn in the same movement as he lashed out, smacking the blighted apple back through the bars. The cold shiver of Turn Undead pulsed through him and she was gone. In his arms Clarabelle began to wail, bereft of her shiny red treat. Caduceus ignored her, legs buckling as he swallowed back sobs of relief. Colton hurried up beside him, a warm hand on his shoulder as he called back to his mother. Softly, he offered Caduceus a gentle, comforting squeeze, a rare moment of brotherly affection and gratitude.

"She's fine, Ma! She tried to grab a wasp is all! She'd not hurt, I think she's just sad it flew off!"

The Clay children made a silent vow to never let Clarabelle out of their sight after that.

...

His mother and aunt had left three years ago. Possibly. Maybe. Now he tended the grounds by himself, simple, clean work. A restful daily routine. 

(Melora help him, he was so lonely.)

The days passing with the softness of falling autumn leaves.

(Where were they? Surely they would have sent word?)

He felt good and proud, holding down the fort, keeping the home fires burning for their return.

(Please come home soon.)

Quietly, with infinite calm, he made his way around the fence, tending and pruning, polishing away the rust.

And Caroline was there.

She'd been coming back a lot, lately.

"Go back to sleep, Caroline."

" _Let me in, little brother._ "

Caduceus looked down at her, eternally thirteen, grey fur marred by purple blight, and felt a wave of sorrow wash over him. He was nearing his eighties by now (Possibly. He'd lost count.) Fully grown, young, in his prime. And she was trapped here in this eternal twilight, bound by the curse his family had failed to defeat.

"Go and rest, Caroline. I love you dearly but you can't stay here."

" _But you're so lonely, little brother. Can't I keep you company?"_

"Life belongs to the living, Caroline. I'm so sorry we couldn't help you. Someday we'll end this blight. We'll bury you properly. Where you belong."

Her face turned ugly, eyes blazing with malice.

" _You can't keep it out, Caduceus. It's still spreading. It'll beat this gate someday. Even iron rusts. I'll come in soon, no matter what you say. The blight comes for all things. Let it take you, Caduceus. The stillness is so sweet."_

"I love you, Caroline. I'm sorry."

He raised a hand and cast Turn Undead, a power he'd learned long before his cleric training.

She was gone. For now.

Alone once more, Caduceus sat himself down on a gravestone and gazed out beyond the dying woods. 

He was not a man who hated easily. But now he felt a silent fury rise up in him, looking at the purple trees, twisted by that corrupting force.

Someday, he would see these lands clean, his families legacy restored.

His sister brought home.

He had faith.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I felt I couldn't leave it, so I gave Caroline a happy ending after all.

Autumn wound its soft scents through the healing grove, the acrid stench of corruption now a faint tang, carried from the edges of the forests. The fences had been torn up months previously, the graveyard now extending beyond the tight confines of the grove. 

The apple tree stood tall and strong, limbs groaning under the weight of fruit.

A shiny headstone at the base. 

_Caroline Clay. Resting now._

In the end, they'd left her there, under the tree they'd loved. The land had been consecrated, blessed and sanctified under the Wildmothers care. They'd felt it, her moment of freedom. The moment Caduceus placed hands on the soil and cast Decompose.

The blight halted decay, stilling and corrupting the natural order. Years after her death, the ground over her had exploded into growth, flowers, mushrooms and moss spreading over her like a quilt. The world had gently exhaled.

Now Caduceus picked his way carefully through the thick undergrowth, reaching out a hand and resting it on the trunk. In the distance he could hear the ever present din of the Nein, but in this quiet spot, the world was peaceful.

“Hello, Caroline.”

A sudden dull thump of pain bloomed at the back of his skull and he winced, glancing around quickly for the culprit.

A fresh, ripe apple at his feet. For a moment, as he glanced up at the tree, he thought he caught a glimpse of gangly grey limbs, faint echoes of a giggle.

He cautiously cut the fruit in half with his knife. The flesh inside was yellow and juicy, the air suddenly filled with the ripe, wholesome scent of apples.

“Thank you, dear.”

It was firm and crunchy under his teeth, a sweetness he hadn't tasted since childhood.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention, and a young Firbolg faun emerged from the trees. One of Coltons, he guessed. The eyes were similar, but the grey and brown mottled fur and the round face showed their Guiatao clan blood. The two families had mingled joyously.

“Good morning, Calia.”

“'Mornin', uncle Caduceus.”

Without another word, their youngest nibling shot up the tree like an agile goat, and a memory passed through Caduceus' mind, of long ago days watching Caroline make the tree her own. Calia now lay draped over a sturdy bough, one leg dangling as they munched on an apple. 

“Good, isn't it?”

“Mmm.” Calia had never been a talkative one.

“You know, if you pick a few more, Ms Jester can make a pie out of them. Sound nice?”

They shrugged.

“I reckon apples are better off the tree. 'Specially these ones.”

Caduceus smiled warmly, resting a hand on the headstone just below it. For a second, dappled with the light through the leaves, he saw her again, bright and shining, free of the blights taint as she clung to a branch and grinned down, wild and feral and free. He knew in an instant that Calia would always be safe in these branches.

“Well of course. They have a very good caretaker, after all...”


End file.
